#this was the first thing that went through my head and I have no idea why!

[loganofthenorth]

Did I go into this thinking I'd be a mighty hero? Of course not.

...

Okay, well, maybe a little bit... I wouldn't have gone on this quest had I thought it would end this way. I was foolish. Had hope I might prevail. Instead, water drips from the drip stone high above my head, and echoes against the cracked stone floor. Streams run into these cracks and several luminous dragonflies zip around the area to collect any flies enjoying the damp atmosphere. I'm not sure if my lack of breath is due to fear, or the humid air which suffocated me in this dark place underneath the ocean.

"Well, 'Chosen One?' Are you going to bow down and face judgement, or are you going to stand there like a snivelling coward?" The taller man standing across the cave from me questioned. A dragon with scales that reflected what little light the cave offered in a chromatic sort of way circled us. Her giant feet were slow in their steps as she gracefully moved her large body around the two of us. If I ran, she'd likely swallow me whole... I could sleigh her with my sword, but then what? He was a powerful wizard with magic which could restrain me. If I attack him first, the dragon will fry me. I could likely escape with my life, but... I likely would not escape with the artifact that hid within my bag, a loose raggedy thing strapped to my shoulder.

"Dimitri has terrible taste in heroes..." The wizard sighed in exhausted dismay. He took a moment to comb back his long black hair, which shined like the dragon's scales. A cocky smirk rested under his large nose, and his green eyes- the colour of which also matched the dragon's scales- glimmered with amusement. "What is it with great wizards and sending scrawny children to do their dirty work? Why can't he be a proper gentleman and perform his own suicide missions?" The wizard complained.

"You... Know Master Gracen?" I asked timidly.

"Why, has Dimitri not told you? I thought certainly he'd have at least warned you what you were up against. Please, allow me to introduce myself." The wizard before me mused. He bowed gracefully to me, a wicked grin across his face. "The name is Corren Hofftraitor. You can call me Coy, if you like."

"Coy? Like your attitude?" I couldn't prevent myself from snarking him despite the grave situation.

Coy laughed and clutched his stomach as his deep bellowing echoed through the cavern. "Yes," He heaved for breath as he finally calmed down. I felt my shoulders slump, and my gaze avert away from him. "Yes, like my attitude. I do like the younger heroes, they have such spirit in them. So nice to see someone who has yet to be crushed by the world... A shame I'll have to kill you to get what I want." Coy continued. He reached out his hand towards me, then held his chin up high. "Now kneel, and present the artifact to me. Or I shall make the remainder of your life a living hell." He threatened.

"But... My village. We need this artifact." I stammered. I took a step back, and the dragon growled in warning.

"Inerva, at ease." Coy soothed his reptilian friend. The dragon ruffled her wings and blew out smoke, then shifted her legs and lowered herself to lay down. "There's a good girl." Coy praised as he reached out and patted her scales gently. "As for your village... Might I ask, what does your village need this time? Will this artifact stop a monster? Perhaps cure a drought? Or, mayhaps, is it going to break a curse? I'm curious what con my old friend and rival is pulling this time." Coy went on, his attention back on me.

I could have escaped at this point... Grab my broken broomstick from the jagged ground and cast a quick mending spell before his dragon gets up. Or perhaps a teleportation spell would be more practical... I'd just need to know where I'm teleporting to.

Regardless, I was curious. "Con, Mr. Hofftraiter?" I asked to clarify.

"Yes, a con. The idea that anyone can be special and save the world by adding random things to some Wizard's collection. Kids keep getting killed over this and yet he's the 'good' guy." Coy complained.

"For the record, I'm not a kid, I'm 21." I defended.

"Oh, honey. To me that still makes you a kid." Coy mused. "But regardless... There's nothing magical about that trinket. It's simply a rare collector's item and your 'Master' wants it for himself." Coy explained.

"You're lying! Master Gracen said we needed it to craft a potion to cure my people's disease!" I declared.

"Ah, so that's what he promised you... A cute in exchange for the trinket. How quant. Unfortunately, I am also a collector, and unlike Dimitri I get my own hands dirty for what I want. Now hand it over and accept your fate." Coy threatened deviously.

The feeling of despair fell over my shoulders, and the realization that I had failed, doomed my entire family. All I could do then, was pray. I whispered to any Gods whom might listen, begged them to assist me in this moment of possible failure, and grant me guidance on what to do next.

I knelt down in front of the villain, and slowly reached inside my bag. While Coy pulled out a large knife, I pulled out the artifact. Eagerly, Coy swiped it from my hands. Then chuckled maliciously.

"Oh, excellent. This will go nicely beside my Egyptian Artifact collection." Coy decided.

I closed my eyes and waited, knowing this would be the end..

I felt cold steel against my neck after I obeyed a firm command to bow my head.

Then a sharp pain, and warm blood dripping from my neck and down my back. I was surprised, however, when the sword was sheathed and a hand was offered to me.

"There. In return, I have removed the tracking spell your Master engraved in you." Coy announced.

"The what spell!?!" I exclaimed.

"Gods you're oblivious... er... How about we return to my place, you can become my own apprentice, and I can tell you everything. K?" Coy offered as he climbed onto the back of his dragon.

"I... can't betray my Master. Or abandon my people." I argued.

"Your master is supposed to be protecting that village. He doesn't need a special vase to make the antidote, he'll do it once he realizes you're not coming back. Your master sees you as a tool, nothing more." Coy informed me.

"I guess..." I conceded. I felt a pit form in my stomach, knowing I couldn't return without that artifact or Master Gracen would not heal my people. "I have always wanted to ride a dragon..." I then attempted to persuade myself.

Coy smiled, then patted a space behind him. I eagerly ran over, climbed on, and held Inerva's spikes tightly.

Apparently I'd be the fifth adventurer Coy ended up adopting.

Which is better than being the fifth one to die certainly.

When the villain demanded that you submit or be destroyed you just apathetically shrugged and braced yourself for death. You were surprised when the villain did not kill you and instead offered you a nice, comfortable room and an appointment with their personal therapist.

[thef1diary]

THESE DIRTBAG!DANNY FICS EAT I LOVE THESE. LIKE IM SORRY BUT I GENUINELY DON’T HAVE GOOD IDEAS AND YET I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. HMMM… LEMME THINK.. (i have never done this before sorry babe)… MAYBE SOMETHING LIKE BEING INLOVE WITH HIS TATTOOED THIGHS/ADAMS APPLE (two completely different things ik) AND A LITTLE BIT OF A TOXIC RELATIONSHIP I KNOW ITS ALOT TO ASK AND IM SORRY. LOVE YOU SO SO MUCH ❤️❤️❤️❤️

— thank youuu!! I did a lil something on his thighs so lemme bring the attention to Danny’s adam’s apple. Em knows how I went feral over it recently and I knew I had an ask about it somewhere! 18+ content below

You had no business being this obsessed. It was just an adam’s apple—a piece of cartilage, for God’s sake—but on Daniel, it was mesmerizing. The way it bobbed when he swallowed or spoke, the way it stood out when he tilted his head back, the way it seemed to mock you with how much you wanted to sink your teeth into it.

You were straddling him now, his shirt hanging loose on your body, the buttons barely holding together as his hands roamed under the hem. He was smirking, always so goddamn cocky, but your gaze stayed locked on the column of his throat. His head tilted back against the couch, exposing his neck, and you felt heat pool between your thighs.

“You’re staring again, sweetheart,” Daniel drawled, his voice deep and gravelly, the vibration of it visible in the rise and fall of his throat.

“I’m not,” you lied, your eyes betraying you as they trailed back to his throat.

“Oh, you’re definitely staring,” he teased, his hand sliding up to the back of your thigh. “You’ve got a thing for my neck, huh? You're staring at it like you’re starving.”

Your cheeks burned, but you didn’t deny it. How could you? The thoughts racing through your mind were filthy beyond reason. You wanted to kiss him, bite him, lick every inch of that thick neck until he was a panting mess beneath you. You wanted to feel his adam’s apple bob against your tongue as he swallowed your name, wanted to sink your teeth into the tendon that stretched so perfectly whenever he turned his head.

“Fuck off,” you muttered, shifting in his lap, trying to mask the wetness pooling in your panties. But Daniel wasn’t having it.

“Aw, don’t get shy on me now,” he crooned, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles on your inner thigh. “You’re not very subtle, you know. I can feel the way you clench every time I swallow.”

You clenched again, your thighs squeezing around him involuntarily, and his laugh was a low, dirty thing that made your stomach flip.

“Fuck, you’re obsessed,” he said, his hand sliding up to your waist, holding you steady as you tried to wiggle away. “You wanna bite me, don’t you? Leave a pretty little mark right here?” He dragged two fingers up the column of his neck, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed for emphasis.

Your breath hitched, and he noticed. Of course he noticed.

“Go on,” he dared, his voice dropping an octave, rough and teasing. “Get it out of your system. Or do I need to beg you to choke me first?”

Your head snapped up at his words, your stomach flipping violently. You hadn’t said a single thing about that. But now that he’d put it out there, the idea lodged itself firmly in your mind. Your fingers twitched, and your gaze darted to his throat, imagining how his skin would feel under your hands—hot and firm, his pulse pounding against your palm.

“You’re insane,” you muttered, but it came out weaker than you intended, breathier, like you were already caving.

“I’m not the one eye-fucking someone’s neck,” he shot back, smirking. “But don’t stop now, sweetheart. I love this attention.”

Your hands trembled as they found their way to his neck, your thumbs brushing over his adam’s apple. His pulse thumped against your fingers, steady but quickening. His throat flexed as he swallowed, and your breath hitched at the way it felt under your touch.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his eyes hooded as he watched you. “That all you got? Thought you wanted to leave a mark.”

His words spurred you on, and you surged forward, your lips finding the curve of his throat. You kissed him there, soft and tentative at first, but it wasn’t enough. Your teeth scraped against his skin, and when he groaned, low and guttural, you bit down just enough to feel the muscle under your teeth.

“Goddamn,” he rasped, his hands finding your hips and gripping them hard. “Knew you were filthy, but this? Shit, sweetheart.”

You kissed and licked your way up to his adam’s apple, your tongue flicking over it as it bobbed. He cursed again, the sound rough and desperate, and his hips bucked against you, sending a jolt of heat straight to your cunt.

His adam’s apple moved against your tongue, and it was intoxicating—the rough texture of his skin, the way his muscles shifted beneath your lips, the sound of his groan rumbling in your ears.

“I can feel you twitching,” you murmured against his skin, letting your teeth graze the protrusion. “Does it turn you on? Knowing I can’t stop thinking about marking you up?”

Daniel’s laugh was low and breathless, his hips jerking up against you. “You’re a fucking menace,” he said, his voice raspier now, rougher, like your attention was unraveling him.

“Maybe,” you admitted, your lips curling into a smile as you pressed another soft kiss to his adam’s apple. Then, without warning, you sucked hard, your teeth scraping lightly against it.

Daniel’s reaction was immediate. His fingers dug into your hips hard enough to leave bruises, and a deep, guttural groan ripped from his throat. “Shit, you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, his hands sliding up to the small of your back, pulling you tighter against him.

You grinned, your tongue flicking over the reddened skin you’d just claimed. “Not until I’ve had my fill,” you teased, your lips ghosting over his throat again, taking your time to savor the taste of him—the faint tang of sweat and salt and something that was undeniably Daniel.

“You love this, don’t you?” he said, his voice rough, his breath uneven. “You love knowing I’ll let you do whatever you want. Choke me, mark me up—hell, I’ll let you ruin me, sweetheart. Just say the word.”

You laughed breathlessly, your tongue flicking over the spot you’d just bitten, your hands tightening around his neck as you rocked your hips against him.

“Don’t tempt me,” you whispered, your lips brushing his ear. “I might just take you up on that.”

And based on the way he bucked against you, hard and desperate, you knew he’d actually let you.

want more dirtbag!danny? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

[salparadiselost]

A random idea that I'm not ever sure I'm going to pick up and finish. AU is that everyone lives in a movie genre and the universe if governed by the rules of that genre. Bruce, fed up with being a failed lover interest, starts to adopt kids from other genres.

-----

"I don't get it," Dick says, standing at the top small set of stairs and looking down them. There's like six of them, hardly enough to actually call it a staircase. Dick could probably jump the full way down without hurting himself. It's definitely not a flight, just six steps to get from the raised dias of the bank's entry to the street. But Bruce is still hesitating at the top, staring at them like they are a snake curled up in the grass. 

The man who had assigned himself Dick's father (He doesn't need a father. He doesn't have parents. His parents are dead. Killed. For eight years, their case has gone untouched as cold as their corpses. He needs to solve it. He needs to find the killer. He has to. He has to. He has to...) drags his eyes from the stairs to Dick.

"You live in a *rom com*," Dick practically spat the words. He had been growing to hate this saturated colour, plastic world. There were too many people. None of the streets were ever empty. Movements from the corners of his eyes that his brain screamed could be someone pulling a gun, someone reached for a knife, someone passing a drug off to another, was usually just a woman dressed in LuLulemon pulling her yappy dog along. It was maddening the way that his brain wasn't built for this. He saw people doing things and his mind screamed that it was clues! It was evidence! You need to investigate it! You need. You need. You need.

But he doesn't. Because he doesn't exist here. The Graysons don't exist here. No one has been killed in this city for over 100 years apparently. The worse crime in the paper had been when Miss Betty accidentally stole cupcakes because her and Joe's orders got mixed up. They were getting married now apparently.

Dick shook his head trying to dislodge the part of him that was screaming that he was missing a clue. He tried to focus on the present. Him. Bruce. Stairs.

"This is a romantic comedy," he repeated. "It's all about love, so what's the fucking worse thing that could happen on the stairs."

"*It seems I've fallen for you*," said Bruce suddenly, his voice so devoid of emotion it startles Dick. Dick's eyes snap up to meet the other man's eyes, but Bruce is still looking at the stairs.

"That's the part of the script," he continues, his voice blank. It's disconcerting. Dick has only heard him peppy or bubbly or other words that paint him as a happy-go-lucky dog. He's never heard... this. "I fall down the stairs and I... I break something. I lay there until she's suppose to rush in. She's supposed to be a nurse or a doctor or maybe just someone with first aid training. She's supposed to treat me until the ambulance comes and I'm supposed to say *'it seems I've fallen for you'*"

Bruce finally looks at Dick and he can't even describe what's in the man's eyes. It's... he would almost call it haunted. The same glint that he has when he stares in the mirror.

"I've broken my leg from falling down stairs 48 times. I've broken one of my ankles 53 times. My left arm 18 and my right 26. Three times it's been my collarbone. One time after two flights, it was my back. I was paralyzed from the neck down. I couldn’t move a damn finger, so I just laid there in pain until the clock hit midnight and everything reset. And that’s just the staircase falls. There’s also the open manholes, the broken railings, getting hit by a car, a couple of times where a bridge gave out from under me. Any of them will do as long as I end up hurt and on the ground."

Dick stared. Coldness washed through his veins, fixing him to the spot. For the first time since he got here, fear settled into the pit of his stomach. The only thing he could think to say was: "I thought that nothing went wrong here?"

Bruce gave a harsh laugh that seemed more fitting for Dick's genre. "Everything works out if you actually have someone who wants to love you. If your love interest isn't interested or she just doesn't bother to turn up... well, the universe keeps trying to correct itself even if that means you have to lay in a crumpled, bloody heap at the bottom of stairs for a few hours."

He... he didn't know what to say. Say that he was sorry? That Bruce didn't have anyone coming to love him?

He looked back at the stairs and saw them how Bruce saw them. He tried to figure out what to say, but Bruce just turned on his heel.

"Let's go find the wheelchair ramp."

[acehazbin1]

Okay hear me out on this for the one and Only Emperor Caracalla. If you like this one- I might get confident enough to send another request for Emperor Geta lol. I didn’t see a rules- sorry -so if this goes against any just ignore this message lol.

Okay so I’m thinking you could do a fic or two of Caracalla with a motherly reader. Whether they’re a maid, concubine, etc. They just adore him “my sweet boy” and such. Sorry if this sucked LOLOL

“Motherly love.”

I loved this request! Sadly I didn’t see it straight away, but it’s a great idea!!

Notes: sorry if this is horrible I was in a rush! Also about the other series I’m working on the 3rd chap just been a busy January!

Mother!Reader & Caracalla (not romantic)

Cybele= Roman god of motherhood

……..

Emperor Caracalla was only nineteen when he took the throne alongside his twin brother, they were both immature and unfit to govern the Roman Empire. Yet somehow two years in Emperor Caracalla and Emperor Geta remained on the throne, sure Rome was starving and the wars were never over but he still held the power in his hands.

People thought he was ruthless, a real human being could never see the suffering on the streets and continue to throw banquets and parties. He must be a monster with a stone-cold heart… yet in the palace, many workers knew the truth. One in particular knew nearly everything about him if anything minorly or majorly impacted his life she would be the first to know.

“Cybele, Cybele!” Caracalla called out into the open space that was the fountain. She was washing sheets in the fountain, it was her duty as an assistant nurse to wash the bedsheets of the care beds. “Emperor, I wished you reframe from calling me that. It is disrespectful to Cybele.”

Caracalla's eyes found her and he started to make his way over towards the fountain. “Ah, but you are the goddess herself to me.” Caracalla flashes his golden tooth with a grin. “I am not yet a mother.”

“By blood no, but by your actions, they say otherwise.” Caracalla twisted his head a bit, she nodded her head while reaching into the water and twisting the sheets around. “Why did you come down to the servant's area? Did you have something to say?”

“Oh yes.” Caracalla eyes light up, “I thought Dungdus a new trick!” Caracalla whistled for the monkey and she came flying down the stairs. Caracalla patted his shoulder and the monkey climbed up, he then stuck out his arm and Dundgus climbed out. The brown monkey hung upside down on his arm for a few seconds, before jumping off.

“Oh, that was delightful.” She made sure to clap and smile, and he highlighted her comments. “You think so?” He stepped closer, “yes of course.”

Caracalla grinned from ear to ear, he sat down on the side of the fountain letting Dungdus run around the servants’ area. “I can teach her more tricks if you like?” Caracalla mused, which made her shake her head. “Only teach her trick if you want to, you don’t need to impress me.”

Caracalla's eyes went away from her face and he fidgeted with his shelve. “I- I don’t want to impress you…” He didn’t want to admit it, she felt her heartstrings tug. She dropped the bedsheets she was holding and cupped his cheek with her palm. “Oh my sweet boy it’s okay.”

Her voice was like honey, it smoothed him while sick in the head. Many times her voice was one of comfort when he had to visit the nurse, she sat by his side whispering things of comfort to help him through his mental anguish.

He nuzzled into her palm, as he whispered, “Geta tired to embarrass me infront of the senate today.” He would normally complain about Geta, his mind would twist the things that Geta did to protect him into horrible acts of envy. “What did he say?” She asked.

“He said that he should be the one to look over the spending of the army, but we both agreed that would be my job.” Caracalla said with his voice laced in spite. “Your bother can-“ “and when a senator implied that I was useless he didn’t even stand up for me!” Caracalla cut her off with more angrily whispering.

She wave him a dry look, “Caracalla.”

“It’s so unfair-“ “Caracalla.” “he always does this!” “Caracalla.” “I know he’s going to-“ “CARACALLA.”

She raised her voice which made him wide eyed and tensed his shoulders. He was so caught off guard by her yelling, he was used to Geta or the crowd at a game yelling but a servant wasn’t supposed to yell at him. Specially not you.

“I’m sorry you interrupted me, we talked about this before.” The maid said and rubbed his cheek trying to ease him out of his shock. She didn’t mean to yell at him, just hated when he never listened to reason.

“You- you yelled at me…” Caracalla choked, his eyes watered a bit as the shock wore off. “Shsh, I’m sorry.” He pulled away from her hand, as she tried to move it closer. It wasn’t like him to move away from touch, “Caracalla please.”

Caracalla feet tapped the group, his eyes switched back from the fountain to the palace. His head was spinning, he tried to push himself off the little wall he was sitting on to keep the water in before her hand held his wrist. “Caracalla listen to me.”

“I did not mean to yell, you did not mean to interrupt me. It was a miss understanding.” She breathed out but he looked away from her eyes trying to figure out if he should believe her words. “I- I…”

She got up quickly allowing the basket to dump into the fountain. She would deal with that later, she pulled him so he was turn around. He looked a bit terrified by the fact he was dragged back to her but she wrapped her arms around him.

It took him a second, his eyes still wide and wet, his hair messed up and his palms were shaky but he melted into her grip. He nearly let his hold body fall, it was slightly scary for her to hold up his body weight but she was just glad that he forgave her.

“My sweet boy.” She held him tight, “I’m so sorry,”

[liketolaugh-writes]

Dimly, it occurred to Danny that it probably would have been less painful to let his core stay out.

As soon as the star shards had pulled back together into one clean orb, Danny phased it back into his chest, sighing with relief as it seamlessly filled the open wound in his psychogenic ghost half. That relief only lasted for a split second before the pain set back in, reminding him why his core had splintered in the first place.

Danny curled down with a moan, his hands already creeping back to his chest. His core twisted and spasmed in agony, sending waves of stress and frustration through him, and instinctively he wanted to try and physically comfort it, like he would a broken wrist.

"Fuck!" Red Hood cursed, grabbing both his hands to keep him from ripping his physical wound back open. Danny didn't resist, but his hands trembled in Hood's as he tried to breathe through the pain. "I thought that thing was supposed to help you?"

Danny drew in a shaky, hitching breath and nodded without lifting his head.

"Need it," he rasped, trying to reassure Hood - a guardian spirit, he must be, it was the only thing he'd shown an interest in so far. "It's mine, need it inside me, it's- it's part of me. Holds me together." He dragged in another shuddering, difficult breath. It had never taken so much effort just to breathe. "Just- injured. Hurts."

"Alright." Nightwing was back, meeting Danny's eyes with a calm certainty that Danny wished he could achieve with civilians. "Is it because it was broken? Is that why it hurts?" Danny shook his head. "Can you tell us why it's hurting? Is there something you need?"

"I need to go back," Danny blurted out. His core spasmed, and he tried to pull his hands back and reach for his chest again. Hood didn't let him, and Danny quickly gave up, trembling. He'd felt his core throb and shudder in frustration before - when the Nasty Burger exploded, when Pariah Dark pulled Amity into the Ghost Zone - but never this bad, he had no idea it could hurt this much. "I need to get the other ghosts out, I need to protect them."

All of them went still at the ghostly resonance in his voice, and one of them, Nightwing, glanced at Hood.

"We'll do that," Nightwing said at last, meeting Danny's eyes again with confidence. "We're not going to leave them there. But we're trying to help you right now, okay? Is there something that would help your chest? Another dose of painkillers, maybe?"

"I need to protect them!" Danny insisted, his voice coming out echoey even in his human form, and then all but collapsed forward as his head spun in protest, darkness threatening to creep in at the corners of his eyes. "Just left them there to get cut open, experimented on, all of those..." He shuddered, nearly choking on his next breath.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Red Hood said, catching Danny and pushing him to lay down altogether. Danny let him, too weak and dazed to put up a proper fight. "We're going to help them, okay, kid? I promise. They're gonna be okay."

Danny nodded shakily, finding that it was easy to believe Hood. He was a guardian spirit; he'd keep his word. "Doesn't hurt as much when I can't hear them screaming," he admitted shamefully, thinking of the near-convulsions of anguish that made him scream alongside the ghost being tortured. "But please. Please. I need to help them."

"I know, kid," Hood said, unexpectedly soft. "That cop ghost said to remind you that you could come back for them when you healed. That makes sense, doesn't it? Can't help them if you're still split like a fish."

Yes. That made sense. Danny nodded jerkily, his breath easing a bit.

"So you're in pain because you need to help," Red Robin deduced, frowning at him thoughtfully. "You have a physical need to help."

Danny nodded, reached for his chest again, was stopped again, this time by Orphan, who simply grabbed his hands and held them. "It's my obsession," he explained, strained and feeling exhaustion set in anew. "It's... what holds me together as a ghost. Walker, the cop ghost, he enforces rules. Youngblood needs to play. I... I keep people from getting hurt. But..." He shuddered, a weak noise of pain escaping him. "But you protect people too, don't you? You can help."

He meant all of them, really - they were obviously heroes - but he was looking at Hood, who just nodded.

"I protect kids," he said, and then looked surprised at his own response. All of the others looked at him too, with varying degrees of worry and alarm. "What was that?"

Danny cocked his head. "You're liminal, right? You've been around ectoplasm before, or maybe had a really close call with death." Red Hood's expression shuttered. "It's okay. You've just... already decided what's most important to you. It feels good, doesn't it? It feels right." Unreadable now. "And that's... why you took me, isn't it? I get it now. You had to take a kid because you couldn't take an adult when there were kids that needed you."

"Wouldn't be right," Hood said gruffly, though the unsettled look didn't leave his face.

"'S okay," Danny said, letting his eyes fluttered shut in exhaustion. "We're all like that."

Nightwing cleared his throat, drawing Danny's attention back to him. "So you have a physical need that's not being met. Is there something that would help just a little bit? Something that doesn't mean letting you rip open all your injuries?"

"...Space?" Danny suggested tentatively, hopefully. "Can we watch a space documentary maybe? I like space too."

Nightwing grinned at him. "Easy."

Prompt: Prison Break

Walker wouldn't have expected it, but one of the worst parts of being imprisoned by the GIW was watching Phantom suffer through the descending stages of violent obsession failure.

All of them were feeling it, obviously, but for most of them it was a slow decline - the pull of longing, developing over days and weeks into a sharp ache. Ember, ignored and silenced, was lashing out, kicking the glass walls and screaming for attention, even when it hurt. Johnny and Kitty, kept out of each other's sight, pressed against the walls closest together. Walker's whole body throbbed with frustration and self-loathing, needing to return to his territory and drag everyone back with him, away from this place of torture.

But Phantom, not three years dead and with an obsession that demanded that he keep everyone completely unharmed, had declined rapidly. Sure, for the first week or so, he'd been preoccupied with troubles of his own, strapped constantly to a table with hands digging through his insides. But then they'd started to spread out their attention.

At first, Phantom didn't seem to realize what was happening. He cried out in anguish and fear, trying to break open his cell and being punished for it, collapsing under the shock collar's control. Walker could almost see when he figured it out, when he started to clutch at his chest, and scribble constellations onto the walls and floor in his dripping ectoplasm with hands that trembled, trying to ease the pain in his core.

Then he started to curl up and choke on his tears, shuddering in pain whenever screams echoed down the hall. Finally, in between his own turns on the table, he started to shove his hand into his open chest, clutching his burning core directly, moans of pain rising into yells in nearly perfect unison with whoever else was the victim this time.

(Sidney had declined in nearly perfectly unison with Phantom, which a part of Walker hoped the punk hadn't noticed.)

If Phantom wasn't a halfa, he probably would've shattered into dust by now. It probably would've been a mercy.

When the yelling started, Walker almost didn't notice. Phantom, delirious with pain, for sure didn't. But before long, most of the rest of them had stirred to alertness, dragging themselves closer to the glass to peer down the hall. A troop of GIW stormed down the hall without glancing at any of them, and an alarm started going off. Phantom whined and rolled over, his hand buried in his autopsy wound while he shivered. (The scientists had tried stitching it closed, but Phantom just clawed it blindly open.)

"What's happening?" the Lunch Lady croaked. (Youngblood and Phantom were starving, and it was doing her no favors.)

"Prison break," Walker rasped. He recognized the signs. "Someone's here." He'd never imagined that it would be a relief.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Lessons Learned~

Abel x Fem! Reader x Adam

Based on the prompt idea @cosmiiwrites made here. I happily offer myself up as the degen willing to write this! TW: SMUT!, Age gap!, P in V, Fingering, Voyeurism IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT DON'T READ IT

Abel knows he’s too soft and inexperienced with sex. He knows he won’t know how to please you properly, no matter how much porn Cane shows him on the side. He knows he can’t possibly do things right with you, knowing you’ve done this all before with other men who were more prominent and more knowledgeable than him. However, God does he wish to please you and make you see stars like all the novels he reads say. He wants to treat you how you deserve to be treated in bed. He never thought he’d be so desperate to fuck someone good and hard like he does with you. 

Abel went to the one man who taught him everything he knew…Adam. The one man who knew all the right ways to please a woman properly, he was the first man, after all. He asks Adam to show him how to care for you when you two head to bed. He tells Adam he doesn't know how to care for someone else's needs, at least with someone so experienced like you. He tells Adam he needs to be instructed and to see how he should work to keep you both romantically and sexually. 

You’re nervous at first, thinking it’s an insane idea. Who in their right mind would agree to have their boyfriend fuck them right in front of their father. However, you can’t hide the wetness along your panties as you sit on Abel’s lap, back pressed against his chest, legs spread over his thick thighs, his soft knuckle dragging down your warmth. Adam sits back in his chair, telling Abel exactly how to move his fingers, paying close attention to your body's minuscule movements, the way your brows furrow when Abel moves a certain way, or your eyelashes flutter even the way your breath hitches and the slight parting of your lips. 

This was supposed to be a strictly hands-off lesson for Adam, who was just sitting and talking to his son about how to please you. However, watching Abel fumble around your folds, unable to maintain the speed you needed, keeping you from reaching your orgasm, had Adam on edge. 

Adam leaned forward, rolling his chair with him, and told Abel to stop a soft whine leaving your parted lips from the lack of friction. Then, the unexpected happened: Adam told him to watch and pay close attention. Adam tears your panties off, and your eyes go wide at the contact with the cold air. You swallow, expecting Abel to be mad, frustrated, and scared, but his hands only settle around you, and he takes notes as he watches his father work on your pussy. 

Adam runs his thumb up your slit, circling your aching clit, and tells Abel to hold your thighs apart wider when you unconsciously try to clench them at the touch. Just as you were getting used to Adam's assault on your clit his finger began to sink into you, leaving your head falling back against Abel’s chest, eyes shut tight as you pant. You can't help but moan at how large Adam's finger is, and you feel Abel harden beneath you. “How are you feeling bitch?” Adam asks you. You babble out incoherently, your mind going blank as Adam adds a second finger and smirks at your response.

It slowly becomes too much, Adam’s fingers thrusting in and out of you, his other hand now rubbing your clit just right, Abel’s fingers digging into the softness of your thighs as he forces them apart wider and wider for his father. “Oh Fuck” you slur, “I’m gonna…“ Adam smirks, his eyes lighting up as he watches you orgasm, your body clenching around his fingers shoved deep in your heat. 

"That’s it slut. You like having your boyfriend's dad fuck you," You shiver at Adam’s words as he looks up at Abel. “You gotta talk the girls through their orgasm. It seems yours likes being called names,” Adam tells Abel. You're still shaking, and Abel rubs his hands over your exposed skin. "That’s it, princess. Did my dad make you feel that good? Next time, it’ll be me making you purr," he says, kissing the side of your neck as he speaks. 

"She is hot as fuck when she cums. You picked a good one," Adam spoke out, his fingers leaving you empty and clenching on nothing. You steady your breathing, coming down from your incredible high, completely limp in Abel’s arms. Adam can see Abel’s eyes show desire but fear, his pupils blown wide, but an unsteady look covers his face. 

Adam knows Abel doesn't know how to fuck a woman properly. Eve ensured her precious baby boy was never exposed to his father's antics. Adam sees the feral need in Abel’s eyes to ram himself into you, but the fear that he will mess up is more present. "Are you gonna try fucking her now?" Adam asks. 

Abel releases a shaky breath, his hips beginning to buck up against your ass. He knows he would only mess up or hurt you since what Able lacked in size; he made up for in girth. "I’m not sure I will be able to, Pa," whispered Abel.

Adam sighs, shaking his head, sitting back in thought, his eyes roaming over your spent body leaking your milky cum. Suddenly, you feel shy, wanting to close your legs at the heated gazes that both men are giving you, but Abel’s arms tighten on your thighs, leaving you wide open. "I could start her off, get her nice and wet for you, so all you have to do is slip in and pound her," Adam finally spoke after several minutes of them just watching your sloppy cunt.

Abel grinds up against you, a deep sigh leaving him, his left hand sliding into your hair and turning you to face him so he can kiss you. Your eyes flutter at the stark contrast of how delicate Abel is with you. "You okay with my dad preparing you for me, lover?" Abel asks against your puffy kiss and bruised lips. 

"Don’t you want to fuck me, Abey?" you stutter when you answer. 

"Yes, baby, I do, but I am afraid I would ruin our first time; I have never been with a girl, and I want you to feel everything properly." He looked at you with soft puppy eyes as he was so sincere about wanting you to feel good, even if it wasn’t by his hand alone. 

You swallow the growing saliva in your mouth and nod softly to him in confirmation; Abel’s hands leave your hair and thigh, pawing at your clothed chest, asking nicely through body language to take it off of you. You nod and comply easily, and your shirt comes off. You look between the two men you are with and speak softly. "Okay, I will do it."

Adam smirked, stood from his chair, and began to undo his robes. "Good Girl, you are a slut, and here I learn my son likes to watch," Adam motions to the bed in the room. “Come get on this bed for me and spread your legs, let’s give Abel here a good show on how to fuck a bitch.”

You’re nervous as you stand up, body on full display for both men. You look back at Abel, but he only motions you gently with his head to follow his dad, urging you to get up and do as you were told. You sigh softly and nod with bare, shaky legs; you walk to the bed, Abel’s hands lingering on your body until you step out of his reach.

The robes hitting the floor made you freeze as you looked over Adam’s body. He was far bigger than your boyfriend was, but his dick wasn’t as girthy. Were you really going to do this in front of Abel? Let Adam, his father, fuck you in your boyfriend's house while he watches? You grew nervous that this would change your relationship and perspective forever. Having Adam watch while Abel tried to please you was one thing, but having Adam balls deep in your pussy while Abel pleasured himself was another. 

Adam’s eyes trace your naked figure as you approach, the cool air making your nipples perk up. Adam motions to you, then the bed, a smirk growing on his face. You slip past Adam and feel his hands grab onto the fat of your ass, reposting you so you are on full display to Abel. Adam leans forward, his hands gripping either side of the headboard, caging you in. “You scared that you will like the first dick more than my sons? It’s alright if you do; I’ll train Abel up good and well to fuck you even with what he does have.”

You nod, unable to form coherent words. You hear Abel shifting in his seat and the sound of his robes coming loose. However, you’re too drawn into Adam to dare risk a glimpse at your boyfriend's manhood. Slowly, Adam runs a hand down your body, and one of his fingers slips between your legs once again, dragging through your core and making you whimper. “Damn, babe, came so hard earlier that you still have so much left, making you nice and ready for me, yeah?” Adam looks over his shoulder at Abel. “Now, before you go fucking her son, you gotta make sure she is nice and wet, luckily your dad here is a wizard with his finger, and she is still soaking, but you can also use your mouth and devour her juices to help get her wet too, understood?”

Abel lets out a soft whine and then groans of understanding at his dad's words. You lay flat against the bed as Adam finds purchase between your legs, his cock dangerously close to your womanhood. To say you were embarrassed was an understatement, as Adam practically drooled at the sight of you. Adam takes his cock in his hand and strokes himself gently as he keeps working your pussy with his other hand, his thumb circling your clit before you feel the head of his cock on your entrance.

The way Adam’s pressed against you has your mouth watering. Just with his cock hovering above you, it was easy to tell he would be kissing your cervix. You gulped and looked up at Adam’s eyes, his grin only widening when he caught on to the thoughts in your head. “Yeah, bitch you will have a nice bludge in that tummy when I am in ya.”

You turn your head to look at Abel, your eyes widening, and your heart races, witnessing the sight before you. Abel has his short girthy cock out and is stroking himself as he watches you and his father. “Now pay attention, kid,” Adam says to Abel. “We are gonna take things nice and slow at first, got it.”

Adam edges himself inside you, and you immediately whine, your legs flying up from the bed and clinging around Adam’s waist, your instincts kicking in with how deep this man's dick is already going. This only seems to incite him further, Adam laughing softly as he grunts, making his way deep inside of you.

“That’s it, whore,” Adam speaks slowly as he takes an excruciatingly long time edging his cock inside you, small strokes back and forth, going a little bit deeper each time. You squeeze your eyes shut as Adam works his way in. He was huge, and when you looked down, there was a stomach bulge. The sight only caused you to squeeze down tighter on the man as he pushed into you.

Your eyes flutter, your lips parted, and your face flushed as you take in all Adam has to offer. Adam grins before glancing over at Abel and gesturing his head toward the other side of the bed where your chest was exposed. You hear Abel shuffle and move across the floor; you feel his presence next to you. “Now, kid, you’re gonna touch her exactly how I showed you earlier,” Adam demanded. 

Abel’s fingers are on you, sliding along the top of your bust, lightly feathering your exposed skin. His hands are soft and calm as he wraps them around your mounds, and the sweet little sounds he makes only edge you on further. Abel gropes your chest, and you squirm at his aggressive touch. Abel smirks, moving on to your nipples, pinching and pulling gently till you moan, and Adam uses that as his chance to begin thrusting hard inside of you.

You’re so distracted by Abel's touch that you don’t realize Adam’s harsh movement until he sheathes himself to the hilt inside you again. You yelp, your eyes widening. “Damn bitch you’re so tight, fuck” Adam slurs. Abel releases your breast, your chest likely red and marked, and he pulls his cock free, stroking it. You turn to look, flustered, as Abel works himself, his cock right beside your head, his eyes dancing between where his father's cock is buried deep inside you and your glistening eyes. Adam tucks your hair behind your ear, his hand caressing the side of your face, forcing you to look up at him as he rocks his hips against you harder and harder. 

Abel tries his best to pay attention, but fuck, watching you whimper and whine like that is driving him mad. “You are doing such a good job for us, princess,” Abel says above you. Your eyes meet his, and you’re forced to let out a moan as Adam begins to rub your clit. “You look just how you did with his fingers; you're going to cum on my dad’s cock?” his words enticing, like he’s getting just as much pleasure out of this as you. You nod, your hands reaching above your head to grip the edge of the headboard. “That’s my good girl,” Abel praises. 

“Are you going to let me fill this pretty pussy up bitch?” Adam asks. He seems so confident, but you can hear how he’s losing himself and desperate for your tightness. You tell him yes, your words clipping on a whimper, and Adam begins to rub circles on your clit faster, needing to feel you clench down on him harder. 

You cry out, your walls clamping down, fluttering rapidly, and Adam groans loudly, swearing and cursing as he empties himself inside you. Then you feel it, something warm sliding down your breasts. Abel has one hand gripping the headboard, the other still on his cock, his cum now painted across your chest. You can’t help the wave of ecstasy that fills you when you see it. 

Adam gently pulls out, muttering something to Abel about how to be soft when leaving a woman's body. You feel liquid gush out of you and drip down your ass and onto the bed; your brain is in a haze as you look up at the two men who just used you. 

Adam helps you sit up,  mumbling about how well you did, how good you felt, how much of a slut you were for him. You’re confident that, at this point, Adam will show Abel how to care for you afterward, how to carry you to the bathroom, and how to help you put on some warm clothes. However, instead, he says something that makes the fog dissipate from your mind and electricity enter your pussy. Adam smirks at Abel, “Why don’t you show Pop's everything you just learned?”

[blueberrymilkcookie]

kye's shmilk trailer Nooticing compilation

The Keys

if you've seen the leaks from a while back, we already know that one of the stage assets for shadow milk's update is a room with an extremely big key hole dead center of it. here in the trailer we can see more key imagery! in the first shot, we see the white pillars have a keyhole, and the gold ones have a key shape on the bottom of them. when we finally see the depiction of past-sm, his staff has a key shape on the bottom!!!!! also in the bottom right, you can also see a pillar that seems to be a key as well. (edit: ALSO THE KEYHOLE ON HIS CHEST idk why i forgot to mention that)

as for what this could mean, i mean my best guess is that they key symbolizes unlocking more knowledge, as we know from the 4th anni description that shadow milk was very curious and tried to learn everything there was to learn. the fact that it's a key also gives us a sense of mystery and secrecy although, and may tie into unlocking hidden/forbidden knowledge?

different soul jam design

so this is most definitely a different design from what we saw in both the beast-yeast trailer even past-sm's staff in the image above. i'm not entirely sure why this is, but i'm just gonna throw out another idea.

if the soul jam physically change upon the user's emotional state/will (dark cacao's soul jam turning white when he became apathetic in ep. 4) then it's possible that past-sm's soul jam changed into this very obviously darker and corrupted form once he began to embrace deceit. this could be wrong though and it's just a cool visual thing for the trailer *shrug*

Pondering His Orb

so this is very obviously pure vanilla (same skin tone and his chin is being covered with the same fabric) but why the hell is he pondering his orb rn. and why is he in a shady ass cloak and watching himself go to the spire of knowledge ?? is this like him in the future or... idk. WE'LL SEE I GUESS cuz idk what to make of this

interesting thing to add, past-sm is holding an orb. they're both orb ponderers

(this makes me think he might have had the ability to prophesize the future with a crystal ball or some shit. we already know he likes tarot cards so... Btw i already had this idea so devsis needs to pay me again.)

Let's play a homoerotic game of chess

board game time! not sure if it means anything, but shadow milk is initially holding a bishop, uses it to attack a pawn, and then picks up the king piece and uses it to attack pure vanilla cookie. the pawns on the white team are pv's friends... so he's calling them fodder basically

(also, side note: he changed the queen piece to what looks like a jester. is he calling himself a queen? LMAO)

WELCOME TO THE MINDFUCK!!!

multiple things to be talking about right here!! 1) when shadow milk seems to be gaining control over pure vanilla, pure vanilla's third eye/star marking melts

2) interestingly, as he does this, shadow milk doing his little cool animation also melts into pure vanilla. this could be a way to show him getting inside of pv's head i think. btw i drew this already like 11 months ago so. Devsis pay me.

"It's time to accept the truth you like so much! You, you are merely following in my footsteps. Oh, but it's inevitable. In the end, you will become me!"

3) extremely interesting of them to show past-sm, then show pv looking into the reflection of seemingly his own future corruption (btw it's the same silhouette as the pv costume from the livestream). we all already know what this means guys!! we're going to see the cycle that both shadow milk and dark enchantress went through happening to pure vanilla as well!!!! yippie!!!!!!!!

FUCKING BLUEBERRY YOGURT ACADEMY FINALLY MAKES AN APPEARANCE

EVERYONEEE WOULD YA LOOK AT THAT. WHO IS THAT? THE FIRST HEADMASTER. NOW. this doesnt confirm that shadow milk is the first headmaster BUT now we know that there is canonically a very real connection between him and the first headmaster!!!!

oh yea theres also this weird fucking sun/moon thing

ok what we can currently piece together about shadow milk's lore

"You know, I've always dreamt of a beautiful world of perfect chaos, where lies and truths can't be told apart!"

this isn't gonna be a deep analysis bc we don't know anything yet, BUT, from what i can gather, shadow milk cookie was a very curious god who was always in the pursuit of more knowledge. we know now that CANONICALLY he has ties to the blueberry yogurt academy, and at some point (if not from the very start) began to use the forbidden dark moon magic.

based on the 4th anni description alone, we can see that the or one catalyst for his corruption was the fact that... people were just stupid, and listened to him no matter if he was telling the truth or not (i assume it's deeper than that, but this is all we know rn). after learning this, he began to spread lies, using his knowledge to sow chaos and confusion.

also WHY ARE ALL THREE OF HIS DESIGNS FUCKING DIFFERENT

DEVSISTERRRSSSSSSSSSSSSS

[dsireland86]

Okay can you please make a Emotional Dad Folio x fem reader fic who after a tough and risky labor gets to see his wife and baby safe and sound finally. But even better him finally getting to hold his baby for the first time and just having a full tears and snot breakdown cause he was scared and is just happy they're okay

This is just the sweetest. I had this whole scenario played out in my head before I even wrote it down 😁🥰

Emotional Dad

Tag list:

@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart  @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @supersquirrel1996 @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h

I wasn't even sure I wanted kids until the moment my girl came to me with something in her hand. Y/N was glowing and never looked as pretty as she did in that moment when she told me to close my eyes. Her excitement made me excited. After pecking her lips, I closed my eyes. The item she put in my hands weighed about as much as a feather, so when Y/N told me to open my eyes, what I saw wasn't at all what I expected; a pregnancy test with two blue lines. She was pregnant. It was then I realized that the idea of having a baby was really something I wanted, but only because it was with the woman standing in front of me. Picking her up, I hugged and kissed Y/N, assuring her I was thrilled about us having a baby, and as the months went by and her belly grew bigger and bigger, the anticipation of meeting our child grew. Thankfully, our love making didn't stop. Y/N was even more beautiful with our baby growing inside her, making her so irresistible that I found it difficult to keep my hands off of her. The first few months were nothing, but as the baby got bigger so did her belly making it kind of hard. I grew nervous, even after reading everything I did about it, but Y/N reassured me that it was okay and that it wouldn't hurt the baby. After that, it was game on, buddy, and we made some of the best love the two of us had ever had. We were happy, and so ready to meet our little one, but not just yet. There was still a little while to go before that could happen. Or so we thought.

"Nick! Nick! Wake up, please!" Y/N shrieked in pain as she sat up in bed clutching her belly. "Oh god, it freaking hurts." 

Folio sat up, completely startled.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes. "I don't know! Something hurts, really bad, ohhh! Ouch!"

Y/N started crying, gripping the bed sheets tightly. Folio jumped out of bed, slipping on a pair of jeans, socks and his shoes, before grabbing his keys and wallet. Sending a quick text to the guys in a group chat, he leapt over to Y/N's side of the bed.

"Is it contractions? The, er, the ones you say aren't real?" "Braxton Hicks, and no, this is not them. Oh god! Baby, something is wrong!"

Folio placed his hand on his wife's belly, feeling just how active their little one was. But he noticed that something didn't feel right. Lifting Y/N's shirt, the round shape of her belly made him grin. He was definitely going to miss it and the feeling of their baby moving around inside. He leaned down and kissed it while gently running his hands all over, pushing on certain spots and noting things that once felt familiar didn't anymore. In Y/N's lower abdomen where the baby's head should be, there were movements that shouldn't, and feeling up the middle of her belly, he no longer felt the tightness of where the little knees and feet should be. Folio frowned, fearing that what he was thinking might be true. Y/N shrieked in pain, screaming through a loud cry.

"Nick! Make it stop! Please!" she begged, grabbing his arm. "Okay, baby. Alright," he said as calmly as he could. Throwing a shirt on, he helped Y/N up and to the car, running back in to grab the overnight bags.

All the way to the hospital, Y/N held on to her husband's arm, gripping his hand tighter each time the pain came. Her cries and pleas for the pain to stop wrecked his heart and it killed him knowing he couldn't stop it or take any of it away.

"Nick, I love you," Y/N said breathlessly through her pain. "Thank you for being here. Thank you for being so nice."

Folio chuckled.

"I love you, too, Sweetheart. We're going to get through this, okay? It might not seem okay right now, but in the end everything's going to be alright. And hopefully, soon, we'll be holding our baby."

Y/N looked over at him and smiled the best she could despite the pain, nodding quickly right before another wave of pain hit. Finally getting to the hospital, Folio walked Y/N into the labor and delivery ward, calling for help the moment they stepped in. A nurse brought over a wheelchair and helped Y/N sit then wheeled her through a set of double doors as Folio filled out paperwork and informed them on what was happening.

"Wait! Where are you taking her?" Folio asked in a panic, abandoning the paperwork. "Mr. Folio, it's fine. Your wife is being taken to a room. I'll take you there once you're finished."

Nick sighed, running his hand through his hair. He'd been trying his hardest to keep it together for Y/N, but now that he wasn't with her, he felt like he might fall apart. The doors behind him opened and in walked his four brothers, instantly making him feel better.

"What's the word, Folio," Noah asked, his tone thick with concern.

Nick shook his head.

"I'm about to head back. She's in a room, I think." "Do you know what happened? Why is she in so much pain?" asked Jolly.

Folio sighed. "I think, and I could be wrong; God I hope I'm wrong, but I think the baby is breached."

The guys looked at one another, some of them shrugging.

"It means the baby is trying to come out feet and bottom first instead of head first," Folio explained with a sigh. "Oh, fuck no!" Matt cried, biting his knuckle. “Couldn’t that seriously hurt her and the baby?” Nicholas asked.

Before anyone could answer, the double doors opened and a different nurse than before came out.

"Mr. Folio, can you please come with me?" "What's wrong? Is my wife okay?" "Can you please just come with me, sir,” the nurse beckoned Nick towards the double doors.

"Can they come, too?" he asked, nodding at the other four.

The nurse creased her forehead and pursed her lips.

"Are they yours or your wife's family?" "One hundred percent we are," Jolly spoke up.

The nurse cracked a smile, nodding sharply.

"Fine. Follow me."

She led them down the hall, to the right, down another short hall, and to the right again, stopping at a door to a waiting room. Folio looked at her confused.

"Wait. What about the room she was supposed to be in? I thought she was going into a delivery room."

Folio's heart started pounding.

"She was, but then something happened and they had to take her to surgery," the nurse said softly. She opened the door and ushered the boys in. "Hold up! Surgery! What do you mean surgery," Noah snapped.

Nick thought he was going to be sick. He was bent over, breathing hard and trying not to panic, but the thought of something terrible happening to his wife and child felt like his world was crashing down on him.

"Mrs. Folio is in surgery because the baby is breached. If you don't know what that means," "We know what it means," Matt interrupted, scowling at the nurse. She scowled right back. "Will they be alright?"

Folio was motionless, standing next to Nicholas. He felt sick, unable to move. He looked at the nurse as two small tears slid down his cheeks.

"I can't say. I don't have enough information. You all can wait here until a surgical nurse comes out and gives you better information. Should be within the hour."

With that, she turned and walked out another door, opposite the one they came in.

Folio paced. He sat, he paced, he ran his hands consistently through his hair, bit his nails, and then sat some more. He fought the tears, but lost the battle, allowing them to fall as he thought about the idea of losing Y/N. A world without her was one he didn't want to think about. Then he thought about his child, the little life he had yet to meet. He didn't even know the sex yet because he and Y/N chose to find out at birth. The tears fell harder as Nick sat back down, covering his face in his hands. After what felt like hours, a nurse came into the waiting room. She wasn't smiling, but not a lot of the nurses in the hospital did, as Nick picked up on.

"Mr. Folio, I need you to come with me, please," she ordered. All of them started to follow her, but she stopped them. "Only you."

Folio looked from her to the guys, then back to the nurse.

"Okay," he agreed, weakly.

He knew what was coming. He could feel it as he walked the hall, following the nurse closely. His wife was dead, and possibly their child, too. It was obvious from the way the nurse looked at him and spoke. The thought made Folio cry harder, no longer caring who saw.

Weeping silently, they rounded a corner, stopping at a room with a closed door. Gently knocking, the nurse opened the door and they entered into a dimly lit room. It took a moment for Nick's eyes to adjust, but when they did the first thing he saw was Y/N. She was alive and well, resting comfortably in a bed with their baby in her arms. Folio gasped, the very intake of breath hitching in the back of his throat.

"Did you think something bad had happened?" the nurse whispered. Nick huffed a light laugh, pushing his hair back. "Yeah, kind of."

The nurse placed her hand on Folio's back and patted it gently.

"They're both perfectly fine. Your wife went through it, but she's a fighter. You better worship the ground she walks on from now on."

Folio grinned.

"I already do, ma'am." "Good. Then go be with your girls. They need you."

Folio froze, eyes widening.

"Girls?"

The nurse smiled big.

"You didn't know you were having a daughter?" "No. We decided to wait." "Well, now the wait is over."

Folio smiled, focusing his attention back to his girls as the nurse left the room. The sound of the door closing caught Y/N's attention. She looked up and smiled the moment her eyes landed on her husband.

"Nick! Come here! Come meet our daughter!" she said quietly as to not wake the sleeping child.

Nick's chest no longer ached. He was able to take a deep breath as he urgently made his way over to the bed, never taking his eyes off his wife. Even though she looked exhausted, Y/N was still the most beautiful thing ever to him. She was alive. She was healthy. She was his.

"Are you okay? You look worried."

Y/N took his hand and brought it to her face, kissing his palm sweetly.

"Yeah," Folio smiled even though his eyes welled up with tears. "I'm fine. Just really happy you're okay. Both of you."

He wasn't about to indulge his wife with his fears and worries of the past hour. He'd save that for another day. He shifted his gaze from Y/N to the sleeping bundle in her arms; his daughter.

"Do you want to hold her?"

Nick's eyes swiftly looked at Y/N's.

"But she's asleep." "That's okay. She won't mind. I'm sure she wants to finally meet her daddy," Y/N said sweetly to him.

At first, he was terrified, but after leaning over and taking the tiny baby into his arms, Folio had never felt more happy and complete as he did right then. She fit perfectly in the cook of his arm, all bundled up in her tiny pink blanket. Her little button nose and small thin lips were like those of a baby doll, and for a brief moment, Folio thought he might accidently break her. And that's when he broke. Tears ran down his face as he cried, gazing upon the face of his little girl, and he sniffed and sniffed as the tears fell onto her blanket.

"Babe, what's wrong?" Y/N asked gently.

At first, Folio just shook his head, unable to speak.

"Hey, come here, come sit with me," she patted the spot on the bed in front of her.

"Talk to me, Nick. Tell me what you're thinking."

"I thought I lost you," he said, his voice breaking. "I didn't know what happened to you when they took you back through those double doors."

Y/N's shoulders fell.

"Babe, oh no, I'm so sorry," she apologized, laying her forehead on her husband's shoulder and placing her hand on his thigh.

"I waited for over an hour and no one could or wouldn't tell me anything. I didn't know what to think. When they told me that the baby was breached, it almost killed me. I knew back at the house that something didn't feel right when I laid my hands on your belly, but I wasn't prepared for everything that happened. I just..."

Folio hung his head, weeping quietly. His shoulders shook as he hugged his daughter to his chest, silently thanking God that she was okay.

"Nick, baby, I'm so sorry you went through all of that," Y/N apologized, choking up on her words. "Everything on our end went okay; just really fast. They told me she was breached and that made everything make sense. I wasn't really scared about the surgery, but just freaked out because you weren't with me. They told me you couldn't be because it was an emergency procedure. But I didn't feel anything and it was all over quicker than I realized."

Folio nodded, wiping his nose on the should of his shirt before placing a kiss on his daughter's head.

"Where do I lay her?" "Right here," Y/N told him, pointing to the rolling bassinet next to her.

Nick laid the baby down, caressing her little cheek before leaving her to find his wife. He stood over her, admiring the face he loved so much, thankful that they were finally together again. Y/N carefully scooted over some and Nick climbed in, throwing his arm around her shoulder where she settled in comfortably. Having him close to her again made Y/N feel complete.

"I love you, Nick. "I love you, too Sweetheart, and our little angel." "I realize she needs a name, right?"

Nick could hear the smile in her voice.

"Any ideas?" "No. You?" "Not yet. Let's get to know her a little first." "She needs one before we leave the hospital."

Folio smiled, kissing his wife's forehead.

"She'll have one."

Y/N grinned, burying herself deeper into Folio's side where she fell asleep almost instantly.

[strayheartless]

Zakkura Ideas from the games:

While playing through Remake and Rebirth there’s been a couple of scenes that I’ve thought about that have potential for sweet Zack lives Zakkura moments. So since I’m a lazy critter who’s currently knee deep in GenGeal week writing, have some ideas I may or may never use:

1. The first being the walk around sector seven. Tifa is showing them around, chatting animatedly with Zack who’s willing to be Clouds voice when he blanks a question. Then the weapons shop owner yells at Cloud, and Zack just watches the internal shutters slam down behind the blondes eyes. He’s about to snap back in Clouds defence but Cloud mutters “leave it” and walks out.

Again, when they go up to stargazer to see marle she insults Cloud. Zack can’t help the string of pure Rhapsodos grade poison that drip off of his tongue when Cloud defensivly says he’s doing his best. Zack snaps at Marle,

“and what would you know about his skills? No offence ma’am but you don’t know the first thing about Cloud and I’d ask you to watch your mouth when making sweeping statements about his abilities. I ain’t got no quarrel with a woman who knows her mind, but I do when that mind thinks it can belittle people on the virtue of their looks. Clouds got skill in buckets and just cause you ain’t got the time or inclination to learn, that ain’t his problem.”

Tifa’s speachless, Marles impressed, Clouds a little turned on by the thick Gongaga accent that snuck through in the middle there.

2. After Cloud falls into the church Zack goes looking for him. It takes hours but they finally bump into each other by the gates to sector seven. Zack is all at once relieved and mortified that Aerith saved him and hilarity ensues as Cloud mentions Aerith had some excellent stories to tell about dates gone wrong. “How come you never built me a cart for all the flowers you apparently bought from your secret girlfriend?”

“She wasn’t secret! You and I hadn’t met! Aerith and I only broke up after modeoheim!”

“Ah yes ‘sorry Aer, Angeal really messed me up, I gotta get my head straight before I can treat you right’ At least it wasn’t over the phone,” Aerith giggles.

“No fair no fair! It wasn’t like that! Cloud and I didn’t date for a year after Angeal died! I’m serious!”

Cloud and Aerith share a mischievous look. “Should we forgive him?”

“Na, make his suffer some more, maybe he’ll cry.”

Zack spends the rest of the evening at the mercy of their teasing.

3. The calm date, except it’s not Aerith and Cloud it’s Zack and Cloud. Clouds not got the issue of thinking he’s Zack in this AU so he remembers nibelhiem the way it was. Everyone in the group knows he wasn’t a soldier like Zack, but Cloud keeps getting these moments where he’ll forget any time has passed and ask what time their due back at the tower.

So they have a little debrief as they stare out at the town, and Cloud leans on Zack unexpectedly saying “thank you for taking care of me. I know I’m not what you signed up for,”. Zack immediately makes him turn to face him and is all like “sweetheart, no. Okay? We’re not doing that. We both went through hell, and just cause your brains taking a longer route to recovery doesn’t mean your not who I fell in love with, got it?”

Cloud gets all flustered and knocks his hands away, turning, but then whispers “you love me?” And Zack just grins, cause good he’d hoped Cloud picked that bit up.

4. Costa Del Sol, Zack lets Cloud wander on his own, cause he’s not as worried here. He himself goes wandering for some beams to patch the holes in their hotel rooms. When he’s done Jonny lends him some beach wear and he heads down to go cool off in the sea, only to find Cloud crouched over looking for sea glass.

“I’m putting my foot down at no more than three small pocket rocks Cloudy skies. We ain’t got the space for friends.”

Cloud stands and pushes a big bit of deep blue sea glass into Zack’s hands. “Here….” It’s all he gets before Clouds trying to escape but Zack catches him.

“You giving me pretty rocks is literally my favourite thing ever. You’re like a baby chocobo.” He gets kicked in the shin for that but he’ll take it. “Can I start calling you piko?” He gets punched in the stomach.

5. Corel mako reactor. The second Cloud nearly goes over Barret still catches him but Zack’s dictating what to do. He’s getting Cloud lane on his side, checking his pulse and eyes. When the others go to get the cart, Zack stays with Cloud, Aerith and Nanaki.

“Is he gonna be okay?”

“He’s fine. As scary as it sounds this has happened before, I’ll carry him if he’s still sick.”

“When did it happen before?”

“After the lab… told you we were there five years.”

“You never said what happened.”

“Bit o’ this, bit o’ that.”

“But what?”

“Torture Aerith. They tortured him.”

“You mean ‘us’?”

“Whatever… Cloud seemed to take the brunt of it. Never did find out why.”

6. Golden saucer. Zack comes to check on Cloud and finds him sleepy and a little vulnerable.

“You feeling better enough to go win me a chocobo, chocobo?”

“I’m better enough to kick you off the bed for the name.”

They go round holding hands and taking it slow. They’re not hurrying, just having a date. They find Tifa and Aerith hiding together and give eachother knowing looks. Then just before Cait Sith appears to ruin everyone’s day, Cloud asks if they can just sit for a bit and just be together. It’s a sweet moment.

7. Zack head butting a guard to try and get to Cloud in Corel Prison. Cloud telling him to just trust him. Zack still having a bit of PTSD induced rage as they’re taken.

[riongeee]

I lowk want to make a Sebek time travel fix-it fic but I don't know what to do with it :'^( Do you have any specific troupes/scenarios you would like to see?

Dhdidifjfjdjdj

Okay so, in this situation it's very dependant on where he time travels from. See most peoples immediate assumption would be after an overblot went wrong and he died or something or after the overblots in general.

But imagine this, things do go wrong in Malleus' or Grimms overblot, I'm thinking Yuu dies, maybe the first years. Regardless, Sebek doesn't. He lives on with the regrets of what he could have done differently and becomes a jaded old man. His relationship with Malleus is never the same, he just can't look at him the same way.

So when he finally passes on and wakes up as his younger self, he's: old, jaded and almost reminiscent of Baul-Sebek, not the loud Sebek of the past. Just think about it.

On the flip side, if you wanted to take the other approach of him going back while he's still young, it has so much angst potential. Because all the events will be fresh in his mind and he just can't quite look at anyone without getting sick.

If it's a young enough time travel (before Nrc) he stops hanging out with Silver and throws himself into training. Or he begins to hang out with Silver more but almost like a bodyguard, trying to see where he can change the future.

As for other people, like the first years, I'd just like to say. Imagine being friends with someone and then suddenly they don't know you, have no recollection of the memories you've made, the conversations you've had. It would sting.

For the overblot gang, it would be difficult, because Sebek want them to avoid overblot but the Riddle before overblot is so strict and how would he even go about talking to Leona or Jamil??? (Sebek taking over Yuus job as unpaid therapist arc?(making friends with the upper years and becoming their honorary sibling arc??? Idk just some food for thought))

Something else interesting to consider is whether Sebek would stay in the same dorm. Rook changed dorms after first year after all, what's to say that a Sebek that has gone through so much wouldn't change too(what potential dorm, I'll leave for you to think about).

Anyways this is just some ideas to play around with, main point is that you should definitely write the fic😼😼😼

Sebek needs more fics dedicated to him, he's not appreciated enough :'(

Dkjddjdjdj, anyways excited to see what you do with these (you don't have to use any of these just some fun ideas that have been swimming in my head, but I hope you like em<3)

[hugemilkshake]

Golden Cheese Cookie × Reader oneshot please (Reader is Burning Spice's child (they're adult))

Enjoy the milkshake! I’m making it so that reader is like an apprentice of sorts to burning spice but the majority of spice swarm agrees that reader is basically his kid. Would Burning spice be a good father? Hmmmm….

Beastly advice

-Romantic leaning-

Your mentor or “father” always bugged you.

He never really cared for simple things, as in he’d destroy them all. It bugged you.

The day he was imprisoned was a nice day for you, even if it came with some slight immorality, your life improved for the better! You started a farm located on the outskirts of the land of spice.

It was simple.

Oh only if it could stay that way.

The ground shook and creatures started moving towards the abandoned temple that the beast of destruction resided in, which was strange to say the least, no one went there unless they had offerings or something.

But then… you heard the gongs ring out.

Your dough started to crawl. The Great Destroyer, your mentor, your adoptive FATHER was back. You had so many questions buzzing around your head.

How was he back? What happened to the seal? What was going to happen to you? And what is going to happen to the innocent creatures of this land?

Your head was spinning from the anxiety you felt about this. But if there’s one thing that you wanted to do before everything went down the drain, you wanted to make sure no innocent bystanders could get seriously harmed in the crossfire.

—————————————

The dust settled and the winds calmed, a winged cookie dressed in gold, followed by a cookie in a bird like hood, made their way towards the Lassi springs, Pepper Pangolin Cookie left not too long ago and Y/N Cookie was making sure everything from there that needed to leave was ready for transport. It was then that the two groups stumbled across each other.

Y/N Cookie was the first one to speak, their words were directed towards the golden cookie.

“So your the one the beast is looking for? I’m not surprised, you look like you can put up a good fight, I’m Y/N Cookie by the way”

The winged cookie was about to speak up when her companion spoke.

“Is that meant to be an insult towards her majesty? Because if it is, then that is quite the pathetic insult.” Y/N Cookie Chuckled

“Not at all, I honestly think that you could beat the beast, and honestly I can give you some advice, granted it’s been a while since we’ve spoken.”

“Information would be appreciated, it seems that this beast is quite formidable” the winged cookie paused before speaking again “My names Golden Cheese Cookie and this is my companion, Smoked Cheese Cookie.”

Y/N Cookie nodded “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, let’s sit and have a chat, the springs are quite calming”

—————————————

The three cookies sat and had a conversation about the beast of destruction and how you knew this information, it was a bit akward at first but it soon developed into laughter and jokes, mainly between Y/N Cookie and Golden Cheese

Y/N Cookie gently and jokingly hit Golden Cheeses arm, laughter flowing through the air. The two of them had grown to be very aquatinted with each other.

With a sigh, Y/N Cookie stood up, saying that it’s best for them to head out, there was stuff that needed to get done. Golden Cheese had a sad look in her eyes, like she was disappointed that the conversation had to end.

With a final wave goodbye, Y/N Cookie gave the two good luck and went their separate ways…

But as the day went on.. worry started to grow. Sounds of battle rung throughout the air, there was no ideas about what might be happening to the other..

—————————————

Through the rubble, Y/N Cookie and some Kulfi dug through the rubble, the fight that occurred here was violent, but no one knew who came out victorious… was it Golden Cheese or that beast of a mentor…?

You dug through the rubble when a golden shine caught the corner of your eye. The Kulfi were already talking to the victor.

“Golden Cheese Cookie?!” You made your way through the rubble and into the clearing as you saw her, she looked even more radiant than before, her wings shone like burning embers and you could just get lost in her beauty.

“Y/N Cookie!” She flew to you and you both embraced each other, she spun you around and the two of you stayed together like that for a minute until Smoked Cheese cleared his throat

The two of you looked at each other and released each other, looking away with a flushed face. Chuckling to each other.

“I’m glad your okay…”

“I’m… glad your okay as well”

Things weren’t going to be simple as they used to be… but that’s okay, you had someone to look forward to seeing

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Pretend just for a second that's me bursting through the walls from pure excitement.

Honestly, so many people are putting in so many great points on this post that I can’t respond to each individually. (I wish I could) If you are a writer that has a lot of anxiety I definitely recommend going through the responses of this post! It might help!

I believe that everyone here has great points and honestly, it's helping me a lot. Though I do kind of want to brush up on an area that I know I've been suffering with as a writer and someone who is disabled. Which is partially why I'm making this post now. (I'm in a constant battle with OCD and my ass is normally being handed to me)

Though there is definitely no "Perfect" word length, I know some (such as myself) have problems with fitting in or working without the cursed idea of having the perfect word count. For me, I find myself unable to post a chapter unless it's over 10k words because in my head that is the perfect length. This thought is false but also true at the same time. Apart of me knows that whatever length the chapter is, is perfect. But the other part (let's call it the word goblin) wants to meet a specific goal that is sometimes unachievable.

I'm chronically ill and this bastard (the goblin) wants me to sit down and write a 10k chapter in one sitting and when I don't, he (they/she/it/gob gob? I'm not on a first name or pronoun basis with this thing) begins to jump around in my skull like that DVD logo that never reaches the corner of the tv.

And that's something I'm struggling with right now. I used to be able to write a chapter (over 10k words) and feel proud of it within two days. Now I can barely make it to 4k words in a week but strangely I find that I'm still just as proud, if not more, of the things I'm writing. Even though sometimes I would love for Gregory House to just appear in front of me and bonk me on the head with his silly flamed cane and cure every little problem I have in my head. (Technically Foreman, the neurologist, would be the one who would have to help me but that's beside the point.) I know that without my silly little demon (Tourette's) and his little minions (other disabilities) that I probably would be stuck in the never-ending cycle of burning myself out.

As I write this, I realize that I've kind of lost the point I was making. What I was trying to say before my thoughts went wild was that if you are someone who can't escape the concept of "perfect" or need it to function (because lets be honest, some of us really need to be told what to do, me and decisions are constantly in a boxing ring dodging each other) just know that if you can't meet those standards its ok. It probably doesn't feel ok in the moment but that feeling won't last forever. You'll get back up whether you do it by yourself or someone manhandles you to your feet and smacks some sense back into you. (Or hugs you, what that someone does depends on the person you are. I'm a stubborn and spiteful little bitch so I need to get "smacked around" by someone to realize I don't have to do everything by myself.)

And as someone who needs to visually see that people really don't care that much about word lengths, I'm going to leave some screenshots below and I highly recommend any struggling writers who have OCD, chronic illnesses or are simply just a perfectionist to read them. And maybe it can help :)

Also sorry for the long post, I've been having these thoughts for days now and kind of wanted to release them into the world. But quick conclusion, THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS PERFECT WHEN IT COMES TO WORD COUNT OR IN WRITING. WRITE WHATEVER YOU WANT. WRITE PORN, WRITE FLUFF, WRITE LITERALLY ANYTHING, THE WORLD IS YOURS BABY (the word baby is not being targeted at you as a person or as a reader but is just a word that sounded like it would fit and I felt that it belonged there you know?)

I'm currently writing and trying to figure out what could be a possible middle ground for chapter lengths and just want some general feedback on what the (heavy on quotation) "perfect" length is. But I kind of want to hear why some of these lengths are better than others, or if you're someone who doesn't pay attention to length but the quality what are some things that normally keep you interested in longer chapters (or even shorter chapters) I have my own opinions as a reader but as a writer I'm very interested in what the 'general' opinion is. (I don't think I'll personally cater to the majority, but I really enjoy conversations that revolve around topics like this and its been a while since Ive had a deep conversation with other readers/writers and wanted to start one if anyone wants to discuss :)

[willouwood]

God dang-it Grian where the hell are we?!

[tagarilaghost]

I SWEAR CELEBI'S THINGY IS COMING SOON BUT I REALLY WANTED TO POST THIS ALRIGHT

yeaah... future trio got me too...

and Darkrai is there too, because of course he is.

hey look i drew a cute Drifloon :D

...ignore the rest

whatever started at Darkrai doodles ended in brainrot of future trio + darkrai and I'm blaming @scribz-ag24 for this

[amoreemioo]

the call was heavy — heavier than he expected. which, you know, was saying something? seokmin came into the call expecting it to be hard, but he didn't think the call would come to a close with more questions than he went in with? like — if he would still have kaye in his life by the end of the week. aside from work, of course. but that's not what he meant — would kaye still be his.

and that's the question that kept him up all night. it's the question (one of the many) that had seokmin tossing and turning, staring at the ceiling, staring at his phone — he knew it wasn't going to go off, but he kind of wanted it to? what right did he have to text kaye first? he didn't. but — god. hence the tossing and turning! the last thing he needed to do was go reaching out and making a bigger mess of things, especially when they had plans made. plans for the morning. plans that were quickly (or slowly, depended how he looked at it) approaching.

his phone does eventually light up, but it's his alarm — and despite knowing this alarm was the first step towards his day with kaye, seokmin wasn't exactly jumping for joy. he had no idea what to expect for their meeting. or if kaye would even come —-

and he did. kaye did come. seokmin feels that ball of guilt (and spiking anxiety) growing for even thinking that kaye wouldn't come. and for thinking that maybe he himself should leave? he never would have done that, but the thought — he had the thought. it's the thought that was running through his mind as he sat at one of the tables towards the back of the cafe. one that was off to the side & out of the way but close enough to the entrance that he'd see kaye when he arrived. or that was the whole point of picking this spot — seeing when kaye got here so he could get up and meet him properly! or he would have if he wasn't lost in his thoughts like he had been? leaving the other to walk the whole way to him — god. it's like he was dropping ball after ball, huh? even if this was a much smaller ball in retrospect, still.

it had him pushing to stand with a drop of his head, "sorry —" it was said in a quick apology, but that didn't make it less real. not that it was a big thing — or a thing anyone but him cared about! still! but then kaye's asking about sleep, and seokmin's trying not to stare at him, and — or is he allowed to do that now? maybe a little? what was normal? he's doing the overthinking thing again, but he couldn't help it — either way! "oh, no, not really—" he's never been a liar ... aside from the obvious. he's sure sometimes things would slip out without thought, like saying he liked someone's cooking even if he didn't — but that was different! "my mind was too, uh — i don't know. busy?" heavy. full. upset. he was sure there were tons of options. "i hope you did, even just a little.." he was mimicking kaye in a sense, even if it was absentminded. like, he didn't purposefully copy his boyfriend by putting his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie once kaye was in front of him basically standing just like that, but he did. it was mostly so he could fiddle with his fingers safely in the confines of his pocket, but it did look like he was copying, huh? (overthinker!) then his attention drifted towards the front counter and the menu and he tried to focus. not that he really needed to, or anything, he just needed a second looking away from kaye's eyes to think. and stop staring. maybe take a breath and not freak out? he might freak out. and then what?! who did he go to?! he couldn't message boyfriend kaye, and — and he didn't have work kaye, either, so —-

he needed to stop thinking like that before he actually clammed up, or started rambling and scared kaye away. neither would be good, you know? "i usually, um," seokmin tipped his head to the side ever so slightly. "get an iced americano..." sometimes he liked a cold foam on top, sometimes not. it really just depended on the day. and he wasn't sure if he wanted a pastry or not? probably not since he'd have to take the mask off off. "what do you think?" and with that his gaze drifted back towards kaye, though not for long. eye contact wasn't his best skill, alright? he knew it, he tried to work on it and all, but — he'd catch himself staring, and then the eye contact, and — yeah, it was a mess. "my treat — my idea to meet up." and his fault it was so weird and messy, so, it only made sense.

"yeah,  the  cafe  sounds  good,"  kaye  agrees,  now  pretty  much  running  on  auto-pilot.  he  feels  half  out  of  his  body.  his  mind's  desperately  slamming  the  button  on  every  self-defense  mechanism,  including  disassociating.  but  kaye  fights  to  stay  anchored,  because  no  matter  how  much  this  hurts─  kaye  loves  seokmin.  he  wants  to  be  with  him  until  the  end  of  this  call.  they  settle  on  a  time  to  meet.  even  share  the  address  link  of  the  cafe  just  in  case.  there's  a  lull  in  the  conversation.  that  void  makes  kaye's  heart  fall  even  deeper  into  cold,  harrowing  darkness.  sure,  they've  had  quiet  moments  during  calls  in  the  past.  but  they  were  always  comfortable.  now  this  feels . . . strange.  stilted.  painful.  "i'll  see  you  tomorrow,  seokmin.  good-night."  he's  about  to  hang  up.  takes  a  breath.  holding  back  tears,  kaye  whispers,  "i  love  you."  soon  as  the  call  ends,  a  sob  cuts  through  the  air.

kaye  doesn't  sleep.  it's  impossible.  anxiety  endlessly  crashes  a  battering  ram  into  his  chest  until  kaye  swears  his  sternum's  going  to  shatter.  instead  he  spends  the  night  trying  to  not  cry,  but  sobs  hard  and  ugly,  even  choking  on  air  at  times.  cries  even  harder  when  he's  rereading  their  texts  spanning  all  the  way  back  a  year,  fist  hastily  scraping  away  tears,  vision  getting  blurry  as  he  keeps  crying.  why  does  it  feel  like  the  end?  or  maybe  it's  already  over?  as  the  darkness  lightens  and  sunrise  approaches,  kaye's  at  the  mercy  of  panic  attack  after  panic  attack.  when  he  literally  can't  get  off  the  ground,  kaye  grits  his  teeth,  clenches  his  jaw,  and  punches  a  tight  fist  into  his  thigh.  he  focuses  on  the  flaring  pain.  everything  in  his  mind  finally  shuts  the  fuck  up.  he  can  breathe.

full  auto-pilot  kicks  in.  it  fastforwards  kaye  from  the  bedroom  to  the  cafe.  he  used  to  think  he'd  dress  in  something  special  and  nice  for  their  first  meeting.  but  kaye  uses  the  excuse  of  shooting  soon  to  wear  the  camera  crew's  usual  all  black attire:  black  jeans,  black  t-shirt,  black  oversized  windbreaker.  along  with  a  black  cap  and  face  mask  to  match.  ( or  maybe  he's  just  trying  to  hide  himself.  kaye  would  erase  his  scars  if  he  could. )  it's  hard  to  tell  who  sees  who  first.  but  once  kaye  finds  seokmin──

"hey."  kaye  approaches  seokmin,  hands  in  the  pockets  of  his  windbreaker.  "thanks  for  meeting  with  me  this  early.  you  sleep  well?"  keep  it  polite,  passably  friendly,  what  the  fuck  is  he  doing. "what do you wanna order?" kaye nods over at the register. "i'll treat you."

[broke-on-books]

😍😍😍